


Carbon

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-16
Updated: 2002-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-01 09:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Journalists deal with black and white words on a page, but Lex remembers how Clark came to understand shades of gray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carbon

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my wonderful Beta CJ, who I have crowned the Dynamic Diva of Diction. All the good lines are hers. All the mistakes are mine. 

## Carbon

by Willing Prey

[]()

* * *

Disclaimer: 1) I am not making any money. 2) I do not own the characters. 3) No copyright infringement of any kind is intended. 4) This story is for entertainment purposes only. 

Carbon 

Lex waited. Recently, it seemed like he did that a lot. The notebook in his hand was a symptom of waiting. It was the one in which he had first noticed Clark's drawing. Clark had finished his homework and was drawing in his notebook. Lex had finished his work quietly and had come over to see what was holding all of Clark's attention. 

"You're very good." He'd said. 

Clark had blushed and closed the notebook. "Just doodling." Lex had nodded and turned the conversation elsewhere, but the kernel of an idea had been planted. 

The next time Clark came over there were several sketchbooks, some drawing paper and a variety of pencils waiting for him. Nothing expensive, just something that Clark could use. Lex knew Clark wouldn't let him hire a tutor for him so he'd asked an expert for advice on materials that would be appropriate. He left the materials available and told Clark he could use them, encouraged him. Eventually, Clark had picked them up and accepted them. 

Over a few weeks time new things appeared, charcoal, pastels, cont`e crayons, colored pencils. Gradually, Clark tried them. The ones Clark seemed to prefer were renewed as they were used. The others were kept on hand, just in case. 

Volumes appeared in Lex's library some on how to draw and others about artists. Nothing was ever specifically said, but some of them Clark asked to borrow. Permission was always given. 

Art supplies ended up being stored in many rooms of the house. He wanted Clark to be able to draw whenever the urge came upon him. Eventually, Lex turned one of the smaller corner rooms on the south side of the castle into a studio for Clark. The light was good and Clark could feel free to experiment. It also gave him a storage place for his finished work. 

Clark seemed to have criteria for storing his work.. Some sketchbooks, when filled, were left with Lex, while others were stored at home. Lex delayed looking at them even though Clark said Lex could look them over at any time. That's why Clark left them at Lex's disposal. When Lex finally did, he lingered over the images, each one a new discovery 

Lex picked up a sketchbook; the one that had first told him that Clark might feel more for him than just friendship. He hadn't known what subjects Clark sketched at the time. He'd expected pictures of the young man's family and friends, and, indeed, there were some. Sketches of his parents and farm, his friends, including some people Lex had never met. Nearly everyone who worked for Lex at the castle had been sketched at one time or another. Williamson cleaning silver. Molly working in the kitchen. Wendy had posed with a feather duster, and Lex grinned to think that he had actually employed someone named Wendy. 

Mostly, though, the books left with him had page after page of Lex, his face, his body, standing, sitting, brooding, smiling. Some were taken from life and some obviously taken from memory. Character studies of his facial features, eyes, ears, nose and mouth, even tracings of the veins on his bald head. One sketchbook was almost entirely filled with his mouth. 

It gave Lex the courage to ask. His answer was a kiss, a slow slick of tongue over tongue. Soon after, they became lovers. The slide from friends to lovers had been slow and gradual, like it was easy and inevitable. In some ways, it was neither. 

To Clark, his drawing was nothing more than a hobby. To Lex, it was a window into Clark's soul, saying the words Clark never could, conveying meanings Lex never would admit to. 

One morning he woke with Clark across from him, sketchbook in hand drawing Lex in bed. He stretched and yawned and asked, "Can I look?" 

Clark handed over the drawing and Lex saw himself as Clark did, lying on the bed, sheets ruched up about his hips, one leg exposed. It was clearly Lex, drawn in light and dark, feet and hands indistinct shapes. 

Lex looked up at Clark. "I can't draw feet and hands very well." Clark said pointing at the vague shapes. "Do you suppose...." 

"What Clark?" He had asked in the early morning light. 

"I draw you a lot at your desk. Could you sit barefoot?" Clark asked with a cock of his head. "I don't know what to do about your hands. They're always in motion." 

Lex had agreed. The first time Lionel had walked in on Lex with his feet on his desk working, he'd had an apoplectic fit. Lex had ignored him. "No one knows I'm barefoot, Dad, and when I'm talking to you on the phone I won't tell you." Lex smiled at the memory. 

Clark had been right about his hands being in motion. He'd tried to pose a few times and it had almost been impossible. They had resorted to taking pictures and Clark drew from them. A few months later Lex reaped the rewards. 

Again, Clark slipped out of bed early and started sketching. When Lex awoke and realized that Clark was gone his eyes flitted open. Seeing Clark across the room his hand flowing over paper, Lex closed his eyes and waited until the sounds stopped. 

"You can move now." Clark told him. "Want to see?" 

Lex did, after he took a piss. He didn't know how he had stayed so still, but when he'd finally looked, he'd been amazed. It was him, on paper in black and white and shades of gray. "Can you make an enlargement? I'll get some good paper." 

"You like it that much?" Clark had been surprised. 

"Very much." Lex was afraid to touch it and smear the pencil drawing. 

Clark smiled at him uncertainly. "Yeah, I guess. At least, I can try." 

Lex got several types of paper for Clark to try. Clark would fuss and try one then another. He finally settled on an art board. A month later it was finished. Lex didn't know why it had taken so long since the initial drawing had taken less then a week to transfer, but Clark had stared at it several times making small changes until he finally said it was done. Lex never understood what the changes were but he appreciated the final product. It was matted, framed, and was now hanging in his bedroom. 

Lex couldn't get Clark to do a self-portrait in the same way so he'd ended up taking a couple from one of Clark's sketchbooks. One hung on either side of the nude of Lex himself. Perhaps it was vain, but he rather liked the effect of Clark watching him sleep. 

As he mused, he flicked through more of Clark's artwork in one of the myriad of portfolios in the room. It was amazing how much could accumulate through the years. So much was only half-done and almost nothing in color. Clark preferred the graphite pencil, although occasionally he would use charcoal. Pastels were used to accent a work at times. 

When the final barrier had fallen and Clark had told him everything, it had finally occurred to Lex that Clark saw much of the world in shades of gray. The boy, who had wanted so much for things to be only black and white, right or wrong, had finally become a man, who knew they couldn't be. 

Lex knew he was actually darker shades of gray then he'd prefer to be. Clark was lighter than he thought he was. But together they worked. And worked on the relationship they had. 

He heard the studio door opening behind him and strong arms circling his waist. "I couldn't find you. I didn't think you'd be in here." Here, in the city, since Clark's graduation, this studio was used much more for storage than actually working on his art. 

"I like it here. It's you." He leaned back against Clark. "What happened to us?" 

He heard Clark breathing into his ear, obviously thinking. "Nothing. Life." 

Lex nodded, understanding but not knowing. "I love you." 

"I know." Clark told him. He leaned forward slightly to flip through the drawings in Lex's hands. "See. Here." He pointed to a drawing. Another flip through. "And here." A few more drawings moved. "Here." He put them down and wrapped his arms around Lex. "I always knew, and I've always loved you." 

"I know. I could see it in what you drew." He moved and Clark loosened his hold so Lex could turn. "I wish you drew more." 

Clark nodded and held on to his lover. "I don't have time. I like writing." 

"I know." He did. Clark loved writing as a journalist or even when he wrote for himself. 

* * *

Early the next morning Lex woke while Clark still slept. He examined his lover while the sun rose, pushing a sliver of light into the room. Cautiously, so as not to waken Clark, he pushed a wayward lock of hair from his face. Lex wondered where the boy he loved so much had gone and whom this man was that took his place. It wasn't that he loved Clark any less but he had changed. They both had changed. And sometimes Lex wondered if the changes were going to drive them apart. 

"What's the matter?" Clark snuffled as he woke. 

"Nothing." Lex replied. "I love you." 

"Wow. Twice in two days. Who are you?" Clark's voice was serious but his eyes were light. 

"Sometimes...I don't know." He answered honestly, as his head dropped back on the pillow. He stared at the image of himself on the wall. Graphite and charcoal. Carbon. Maybe what was happening was their relationship was distilling itself, purifying down to the barest essence. Diamond was carbon in its purest form but it took great heat and pressure to create it. 

Lex could feel Clark's eyes on him and said, "We can work it out." He didn't know that was true until he said it. They could. 

"I know, but it won't be easy." He gave Lex a wry grin. "Isn't that what you always say. Nothing worth having is easy." 

Lex closed his eyes. It was true. But..."Did I say thank you for destroying the chemical plant?" 

Clark shrugged. "It wasn't me. It was Superman." 

Lex never opened his eyes as he gave Clark a light smack. "Then thank Superman for me. I don't know how many more of my father's minions are still in what used to be LuthorCorp." 

Clark rubbed his whiskered chin on Lex's shoulder. "I will. You're going to use the information they created, aren't you?" 

Lex nodded. "I'd be foolish not to. Clark, I know you don't approve but I can't monitor everybody." 

"Lex, sometimes..." Clark stopped and settled back into the bed. 

"What?" 

"You don't always think things through when you start a research project." Clark commented. 

"I know." It was an admission he didn't like to make but he knew it was true. "It started with Hamilton and Cadmus Labs. I get rather carried away." 

"Then nail yourself to the floor or whatever, but you have to get control of your people." 

"I'll try but..." Lex opened his eyes and looked at Clark. "It makes Superman look good." 

"I don't like it." Clark complained. 

Lex remembered looking at the black and white drawings last night. "Clark, I'm a Luthor with a soul as black as coal. It makes you less suspect. We know the truth, which is enough. I can take the pressure." 

He watched Clark's face as he thought. "So...you'd go to jail to protect my secrets." 

Lex wove his fingers through Clark's hair. "I do what I have to do to protect my friends. What do you think I'd do to protect my lover?" He knew it wasn't enough but it would do for now. 

He felt Clark's arms around him holding him tightly in the sunlight. Nothing ever would be enough for the person that had saved him from the darkness. A diamond in the coal. 


End file.
